Sea Glass g-2

by Maria V. Snyder

  “Do you have a specific location?”

  “All they know is, the person is near the coast, maybe out on the peninsula.”

  “Rather vague.”

  “Don’t worry. When we get closer, I’ll be able to smell the power.”

  Our whispered conversation went on long enough to draw Kade over to us.

  “Something wrong?” he asked.

  Leif explained about the message.

  “Take one of the orbs and any supplies you need,” Kade said.

  “I guess we’ll have to tell Skippy,” I said. The thought of traveling with him so soon was an unappealing prospect. “Unless we ditch—”

  “No,” Leif said. “As much as I would love to sneak out without him, the Council would be upset.”

  “And think about how this errand for the Masters will gain you more of the Council’s trust,” Kade said.

  Another good point. Though the more I thought about this mission, the greater my annoyance. The Council treated me as if I were this dangerous entity until a situation arose where I might be beneficial to them.

  Kade helped me collect supplies and pack my saddlebags. Ziven fussed about giving up one of the orbs until Kade reminded him that the glassmakers worked for the Stormdancers. Not the other way around.

  I joined Leif and Skippy at the stable. Bamboo torches burned, casting a flickering yellow light.

  “We’ll leave Moonlight here for now,” Leif said. “We can pick him up on the way back.”

  Skippy scowled and muttered as he saddled Beryl. Quartz’s and Rusalka’s ears perked forward. They surged out of their stalls as if excited for another trip. I gathered their tack and we readied the horses.

  Kade arrived with a handful of salted fish. “It’s not much, but it’ll get you through a couple days.”

  “Thanks.” Leif packed them into his bag. “Good thing I still have all that jerky, and a few new recipes from Raiden.” He finished tightening the girth straps around Rusalka.

  I hefted the saddle onto Quartz’s back. Kade helped me center it.

  “I guess your surfing lessons will have to wait,” he said.

  Finally, one good thing about this unexpected trip. I tried to look disappointed, but couldn’t maintain it for long. “Darn.”

  “If it’s any consolation, we’ll have time when you get back. And by then, the storms will have fueled the waves. They’ll be bigger and stronger and more fun.”

  “Wonderful.” I loaded the word with as much sarcasm as possible.

  Kade failed to be disheartened. “You’re going to love it. Trust me.”

  By the time we finished with the horses, the moon crested The Cliffs, coating the sand with a weak light. Stars peppered the night sky. No wind stirred. Calm waves rolled onto the beach with a soft hiss-slap.

  “Wear your cloak,” Kade said. “It’s going to be cold tonight.”

  We had already said goodbye to the others. Prin seemed happier than the glassmakers over my departure, which surprised me. Heli asked me to keep an eye out for more sea glass and Raiden wished us clear weather.

  Leif and Skippy mounted, waiting for me. I wrapped my cloak around my shoulders. Kade pulled me into a tight embrace.

  “Please be careful,” he said in my ear.

  “I will.” We kissed.

  “We’re wasting time,” Leif said.

  After another quick hug goodbye, I swung up on Quartz. Leif urged Rusalka into a gallop, heading south. Skippy and I followed.

  I enjoyed riding on the beach. The scrunch of sand under the horses’ hooves, the tangy salt air and the sparkles of moonlight on the surface of the sea all combined into an exhilarating experience. Of course, the novelty wore off as my energy waned. The beach looked inviting. Soft sand and the rhythm of the waves lulled me. I dozed in the saddle.

  When the sun rose, we stopped for breakfast. Leif agreed to a few hours of sleep, but set a watch schedule.

  “I don’t want to be surprised again.” He rubbed his neck. “I’ll take the first shift.”

  Skippy collapsed on his mat and fell asleep in no time. Even though exhaustion pulled at my body, my mind raced.

  “How long will it take us to get there?” I asked.

  “Seven to nine days, depends on how far south the magician lives. We’ll stay on the beach most of the way. Master Bloodgood said it would be the fastest route.”

  “What about the horses? They’ll need fresh water and more grain.”

  “There are a few coastal towns along the way. We’ll stop there for supplies and sniff around.” Leif smiled.

  His comment led me to wonder about the magician’s wild magic. “How do the Masters know someone is out of control? The Bloodgood peninsula is a long way from the Keep.”

  “They flash. Without any control over what they’re doing, they’ll grab power and use it all at once. It sends ripples in the power blanket, alerting the Masters. It usually takes a few flashes for the Masters to pinpoint the location of the wild magician.” Leif’s gaze grew distant. “It’s how Irys found Yelena. She flashed while Irys worked undercover in Ixia. Yelena learned how to control her power, but if she had been too close to flameout, Irys would have killed her.”

  And now Irys and Yelena were good friends. Interesting. “Have the Masters killed many people?”

  “Six in the last fifty years.” He dug his fingers into the sand. “I was there for three of them. My abilities helped the Masters find the person faster. Fortunately, that is a rare event. They usually find the magician before it becomes necessary. And now with your glass animals and their inner glow, Irys has a foolproof way to identify those who have power. This is the first person she missed in five years.”

  “Why didn’t the Masters sense this person before now?”

  Leif played with the sand, letting the grains pour off his palms. “This one is…different. He or she has flashed twice in the past season. The first one was minor and didn’t cause too much concern. But the second was huge, bordering on flameout. That’s why we’re scrambling to find him or her.” He wiped his hands on his pants. “But this time, we won’t have to terminate the person.” Leif’s excitement lit his face. “Your ability to siphon the magic will solve the problem.”

  Despite my annoyance at the Council, I was glad that my strange glass magic would help someone.

  The days and nights blurred together as we set a fast pace. We slept on the beach during our short breaks. The Cliffs turned into hills, then smoothed into dunes. On the fourth—fifth?—day we stopped at a small seaside town. Faded paint peeled off wooden buildings and crushed seashells paved the streets.

  As we rode through the two blocks of downtown, the residents gawked at us. By the way the children chased after us and pointed, I figured the place didn’t get many visitors. Windows had been boarded up. Only one inn remained open for business.

  We rented a room. First thing I did was order a bath. Sand filled my boots and stuck to my skin. I decided I liked it much better melted as glass.

  The town’s sad state wasn’t unique. During the next two—three?—days of our trip, we rode past other settlements. All weathered and lacking vitality.

  But on the day Leif turned serious about sniffing out the wild magician, the beaten-down buildings changed into well-cared-for dwellings. Shoppers bustled in the market. Residents smiled and commented on the weather.

  During dinner that night, I asked Leif about the difference.

  “Oysters,” he said. “We’re getting closer to the oyster farms. Lots of jobs and money associated with harvesting oysters and selling the pearls. Since these pearl-growing oysters were discovered off the Bloodgood peninsula, business has been booming.”

  Our pace slowed as we rode through the clusters of oyster farms. Leif combed through the streets, searching for the wild magician. He talked to various townspeople. When a person started to display signs of magic, gossip and speculation would spread.

  However, no one had heard rumors and most residents se
emed surprised. After three days of nothing, Leif speculated the magician might be inland. He contacted the Master Magicians, but they insisted we stay on the coast.

  “It’s been ten days. How much longer?” Skippy asked.

  “As long as it takes,” Leif snapped. “If you ask that question again, I’m going to punch you.”

  On the eleventh day, we met with one of the town’s leaders. He didn’t know of anyone with powers, but he had some suspicions.

  “There’s a group living on the tip of the peninsula. They keep to themselves, so anything is possible with them. About twice a season, they send the same three men to sell their pearls and buy supplies.” He adjusted his straw hat. The wide brim blocked the sun from his gray eyes. “They built a wall, blocking access to the tip. We’ve gotten the hint that visitors aren’t welcome. But if you’re here as representatives of the Master Magicians and the Council, they have no legal recourse to block you.”

  That was the kicker. Legal versus illegal.

  “How far from here?” Leif asked.

  “About four hours on horseback. There’s not much between our town and the tip. Heck, I’m surprised they can harvest oysters on that rocky point. The currents whip around there, making it dangerous to swim.”

  We all glanced at the sea as if we could see the tide. The sun dipped into the horizon, sending ripples of color.

  “We’ll wait until tomorrow,” Leif said, then thanked the man.

  Renting a room at one of the local inns, we dumped our bags on the floor and discussed strategy.

  “If you notice, I never say wild or uncontrolled magician,” Leif said. “People know those words can get someone killed and they’ll lie to you. New magician is a better descriptor.”

  “Why are you telling us?” I asked. “You’ve been doing all the talking.”

  “This situation could be trouble. The leaders may be suspicious. They may separate us in order to question us alone—make sure our stories match.” He stretched out on one of the four beds. “I’ve dealt with isolated groups of people before. They don’t like strangers and authority. We’ll need to tread carefully. And follow my lead. Go along with anything I say, even if it doesn’t make sense.”

  “And how’s that different than normal?” I teased.

  He threw a pillow at me. I caught it and plopped it on my bed.

  “Did you bring your switchblade?” Leif asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  “They’ll probably confiscate our weapons, claiming they don’t allow violence within their territory, but promising to return them when we leave.”

  “Yet, they’ll be well armed. Right?” I asked.

  “Yep. And they’ll have a justifiable reason as to why. Don’t believe everything they tell you, either. Otherwise, you’ll want to join them.”

  “It’s a good thing I have Skippy here.”

  The magician didn’t even bother to correct me. He glared, but his heart wasn’t in it.

  “I’ll bite. Why is it good he’s here?” Leif asked.

  “I’m sure he has orders to make sure I return to the Keep. If I decide to go native and dive for oysters, he’ll save me.”

  “You’re right. Wow. He’s actually going to be useful. I need to write home about it.” Leif searched through his bag as if looking for paper.

  Skippy ignored him. He gathered a few items and left for the washroom. I noticed he walked with a slight limp. We’d been on horseback for a week and a half. Skippy started bugging Leif about travel time a few days into our trip. Standoffish and snide remarks were expected, but not whiny.

  When Skippy returned, I kept an eye on him as he prepared for bed. His stiff movements and little winces confirmed my suspicions.

  I stood and stretched, groaning a bit over my aching ribs. “Phew. I’m saddle sore. Do you have any barbasco yams, Leif?”

  “Of course.” He dug through his supplies, pulling out an orange lump. He sliced a section off and handed it to me. “I could use some, too.” Cutting a few more pieces, he popped one into his mouth. Then he reached over with a casual motion and gave one to Skippy.

  I looked away before Skippy caught me staring. Arranging my pillows, I chewed on my yam, then slipped into bed.

  “That’s a heck of a wall,” Leif said.

  As we traveled toward the peninsula’s tip, the land narrowed until the sea was visible on both sides of the trail—more like a goat path. Black rocks and sand dominated the landscape. A few bushes and trees clung to life, but, other than the occasional gull swooping above, the area was barren.

  I agreed with Leif. It was an impressive barrier. Boulders had been stacked together, forming at least an eight-foot-high wall. Sitting on Quartz, I still couldn’t see over it. The barricade spanned the entire length of the peninsula. Continuous except for a sturdy iron gate.

  “I bet the gate’s locked,” Leif said. “Any takers?”

  “No. Go on,” I urged. “Knock.”

  Leif dismounted and strode up to the gate. “Hello?”

  A well-armed man appeared on the other side. “What do you want?” he demanded. His manner oozed hostility and contempt.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Leif parried with sarcasm.

  The man’s deadly gaze would have sent most people running.

  All pleasantness dropped from Leif’s face. He stepped forward, his nose an inch from the gate. “I want to talk to the person in charge. Now.”

  “Why?”

  “Not your concern.”

  The big brute towered at least a foot over Leif. Stubble covered his cheeks, chin and the top of his head. “Request denied.”

  “Fine. I’ll come back with the authorities.” Leif turned to us. “Do you think we should tell Bain? Perhaps he would want to join us.”

  “Oh yes,” I said. “First Magician is a Bloodgood. He’ll want to visit his family, and the sea air would be healthy for him.”

  “Who are you?” the guard asked.

  “I am Leif Liana Zaltana, a representative of the Sitian Council.”

  The man failed to look impressed.

  “Either fetch your boss or I’ll fetch a squadron of soldiers,” Leif said.

  “Jay, get Walsh,” he barked to another person beyond our view. He kept his gaze on us.

  We didn’t wait long. Soon another man arrived. Walsh perhaps. He was a few inches taller than the guard, and a lot thinner—almost skeletal. His white tunic and pants hung on his frame. The sun had bleached his long blond hair almost white.

  “What’s going on here?” he demanded.

  “Are you in charge?” Leif asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Then I need to speak with you. In private.”

  “Jay said you’re from the Sitian Council?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll need proof. We don’t…associate with many people outside our family.”

  Leif opened one of his saddlebags and brought out a scroll. He handed the document through the bars to Walsh. The man unrolled it and scanned the paper.

  “Open the gate,” Walsh said to the guard. “I would apologize, but we don’t usually receive unexpected visitors. Since we harvest pearls, we are naturally suspicious of foreigners. If you had sent me a message and arranged a meeting…” He swept a bony hand out as if to imply none of this would have happened.

  “Our business is urgent. We didn’t have time for protocol.” Leif walked Rusalka through the gate.

  Skippy and I dismounted and followed. Walsh led the way. Right past the wall were cottages made of bamboo. They were lined up with such precision, it looked as if they had been planted there. Farther out, near the tip of the peninsula, wooden buildings hugged the beach. People scurried between the water and the structures. A few carried buckets, while others pushed wheelbarrows.

  Walsh guided us to a stable, then to a smaller building nearby. Inside was his office. Gesturing toward a round conference table ringed with wooden chairs, he invited us to sit down. He asked his assistant�
�a young girl around fourteen years old—to bring tea and fruit.

  When she hurried away, he finally introduced himself. “I’m Walsh Bloodrose. Elected representative of my family.”

  “Bloodrose isn’t a clan name,” Leif said.

  Walsh’s laughter rasped in his lungs and transformed into a coughing fit. “Sorry. I forget. My family has so many Bloodgoods and Jewelroses that we stopped keeping track long ago and just use Bloodrose.” He wiped the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief. When he composed himself, he studied me and Skippy. “You haven’t introduced your companions.”

  “This is Opal Cowan and Hale Krystal.”

  He nodded to us, but his gaze lingered on my sais. So far, Leif’s predictions about our reception hadn’t all come true. We kept our weapons and we were still together. His assistant returned. She carried a trayful of fruits and tea. Putting her burden on the table, she poured a cup of tea for everyone, then bolted.

  “Now, what is this urgent business of yours?” Walsh asked.

  Leif explained about searching for a magician.

  “Then you have found him.” Walsh spread his arms wide. “I’m Keep trained. I graduated about twenty years ago.”

  “A new magician. Someone who might not even realize they have power,” Leif said.

  Anger flared in Walsh’s eyes, but he blinked it away. “No. Not here. I would have sensed him or her.”

  “Do you mind if we have a look around?” Leif asked.

  Walsh’s hesitation lasted a mere heartbeat. “Of course not. I’ll give you a tour of our oyster farm.” He swept out of the office, leaving us to follow in his wake.

  He headed toward the beach on the northern side of the tip. Coarse yellow sand mixed with gray rocks that extended into the sea. The building nearby wasn’t as solid as it appeared from a distance. The side facing the sea was open, letting in the cool breeze, while the roof kept the sun off the workers.

  “It’s a simple operation. The younger members of our family harvest the oysters from the sea and bring them here.” Walsh gestured to the women and men sitting at long tables, prying open shells.

  Pearls were placed in small containers and the oysters were scraped out into another. The children carted buckets filled with oysters from the sea and dumped them onto the tables. They returned to the surf and waded into the waves.